Those of us in chronic pain often have to live with others' inability to accept what's happening with us.

People who aren't in pain often wonder why we aren't better yet. How can anyone be in pain that long, they ask? It's just not possible.

Except that we can, and we are, unfortunately. It's real. It's physical. It's tiring, and it demands the utmost of our inner fortitude and emotional stamina to keep going and not sink into a blob of misery on a regular basis.

While we're doing our best to manage our ongoing pain day in and day out, people around us are moving on with their lives. They're moving forward while we, seemingly, are staying in the same place. This can lead to misunderstandings and frustrations on both sides of the experience.

We become frustrated with our pain, with our physical condition, and with ourselves for not healing faster. Others become frustrated with us as well.

Everyone's Got An Idea

We hear, sometimes overtly and sometimes very subtly, that we're probably not doing enough, or we're just not doing the right things. This is often from very well-meaning people, but still...it's so often about what we're not doing.

We have been told any number of things about why we're still in pain:

maybe we aren't really working at healing ourselves

maybe we just have to try yet another therapy or supplement or magic wand

maybe we want to stay in pain

maybe it's emotionally based (which usually translates into maybe it's not real), or another version:

maybe it's all in your head (I'm never sure what that really is supposed to mean. Pain is pain. If someone were cooking up their physical or emotional pain in their head, then they must be in a lot of pain already at some level to have to do that.)

Pain Turns the World Upside Down

Even some practitioners doubt the possibility of the existence of extreme pain over time, as if the length of time a person is in pain somehow lessens its believe-ability, instead of proving its intensity and intractability.

Yet when others announce that our pain cannot be real, they are dismissing our experience and our reality. It's like saying, you aren't real.

It's a level of denial, I guess. It's scary to see someone in pain for a long time. It turns the world upside down for people. It's not supposed to happen. Sometimes it's easier to disbelieve someone who reports experiencing pain for months or years, than it is to admit that relentless, ongoing pain can be a reality...because then it becomes a possibility for anyone, and that might be too much to let in.

And sometimes I think people deny other people's pain so they don't have to look at their own.

How Long Will It Last?

So why does pain stick around so long?

Sometimes we just don't have an answer for that. But because we don't understand how it all works yet, or how to move through it to the other side, doesn't mean it doesn't exist or it isn't real or that we are wrong or mistaken or have failed in some way just because we're still navigating our way through it.

Is there a far shore without pain for those of us who have lived with it for years? I honestly don't know the answer to that question yet. I'd like to believe there is. But I do believe that all of us who must deal with pain on a daily basis are doing it in exactly the right way for us, whatever that may be.

This journey is completely individual, there is no one-size-fits-all answer, and, whether anyone else wants to believe it or not, those of us who have lived with chronic pain for any length of time understand that there is no quick and simple answer.

How long will it take to be out of pain? I guess the only answer to that is not a very satisfying one, but it's accurate.

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Image: Study, Evelyn de Morgan (Wikimedia Commons)

Sarah Anne Shockley is the author of The Pain Companion series of books on holistic pain management and pain relief. Visit her at www.thepaincompanion.com for resources for people in chronic pain and more information on her work.

I'm blown away by the number of people I've talked to recently who are in pain or know people in pain. A recent statistic from the National Institutes of Health claims that 100 million Americans, or one third of the population, suffers from some form of chronic pain, from mild to very acute. 1 in 3 people? Wow.

So, I asked myself, what is going on that is creating this epidemic? Are there certain factors common to us all that may be contributing to pain's longevity? I don't know the answer for sure, but here are some thoughts I had on the question: why are so many people in pain?

Screens, Screens, Screens

As much as we love our screen time, we do need to consider the fact that the time we spend in front of electronic devices may be detrimental to our health. Many of us work in front of computer screens, talk to each other using phone screens, and then spend leisure time in front of other screens.

Is there a correlation between all this screen time and the level of pain in our bodies? It certainly bears considering. We know that electronic devices emit electromagnetic frequencies (EMFs) and these may contribute to compromised immune systems, higher stresses, and less healthy bodies.

Neuroscientist Dr. Olle Johansson, professor at the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, Sweden, believes that EMFs pose significant health hazards. If this is true, it's possible that they also contribute to chronic pain. It's certainly something to consider, and it might be worth experimenting with by cutting way back on screen time to see if it lowers overall pain levels.

Real Face Time

I wonder if it's not just the time in front of screens that may be contributing to chronic pain, but the time not spent looking at each other.

There are basic needs that we have as human beings, and some of them include real face time with other humans. It is now known that babies who are not mirrored - who don't have someone who spends time gazing into their eyes, making faces, playing peekaboo - do not develop as well cognitively, emotionally, or physiologically as babies who do have someone making eye contact with them often.

If face time is important for us as babies, it's probably important on some level all of our lives. This means that there is a physiological response to connecting with and making eye contact with another person. When we don't have it, it's possible that there's a physiological deficit which may translate into body pain.

What would happen if we started looking each other in the eyes more often and had the experience of really seeing each other and being seen? Another way of reducing overall pain levels? Food for thought...

In Or Out Of Balance With The Earth

As a people, we used to spend a great deal of time outside - tending gardens, farming, taking care of livestock, walking from one place to another, and visiting each other on front porches. How many of us go from the house to the car to work to the car to the house to the car to the movies to the car to the house or something similar in a day?

Being outside in a natural setting for any length of time has become something to write into our weekly planners. We often have to make an effort to schedule in time to walk in the woods, go camping, or take a vacation by the beach. These little bits of time in nature may be too short and far between for our bodies to stay healthy. Native American wisdom says that healthy bodies are tuned to the rhythms of the earth and that our bare feet need to touch the earth in order to stay attuned, otherwise we become out of balance, both physically and emotionally. Is our disconnection from the earth contributing to increased pain in our bodies?

Dr. Joseph Mercola says, "research indicates that electrons from the Earth have antioxidant effects that can protect your body from inflammation and its many well-documented health consequences." Hmmm...inflammation and pain tend to go together. So, regular walking, sitting, or lying in direct contact with the earth may prove to be a pain reducer.

Painful News

As a culture, we're going through a very difficult time right now with incredible stresses every day. Many of our long-time financial, government, and social institutions are falling apart at the seams. We hear about terrorist attacks frequently, the political system seems to be more fragmented than ever, and we are facing environmental disasters on a massive scale.

We live on a planet that seems to be tearing itself apart. Is it any wonder that many of us feel that in our bodies? The huge disparity between the world we want to live in and the world we currently see around us creates incredible stress. Can we live in this environment and not reflect some of that pain in our physiology?

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Image: Demeter Mourning Persephone, Evelyn de Morgan, 1906 (Wikimedia Commons)
Disclaimer: The content in this post is the opinion of the author. None of it is intended as medical advice.

Sarah Anne Shockley is the author of The Pain Companion series of books on holistic pain management and pain relief. Visit her at www.thepaincompanion.com for resources for people in chronic pain and more information on her work.

I’m from New England, so the first answer I came up with for living with chronic pain was to grit my teeth and stoically carry on. Just live through it from day to day with as much grace and as little sourness as I could manage.

This didn’t actually solve anything, but at least it didn’t make things worse. I learned how to do very little, to stop trying so hard, and to relax a little bit more around the pain.

After several years of that, I thought, okay, I’ve been a good girl. I’ve slogged through my days as positively as possible with hardly any complaining and I’ve done everything within my capacity to heal.

So, why isn't the pain going away? This just can’t be it. I can’t live the rest of my life like this.

The Plan: Write Out The Pain

I had used journaling in the past to move through emotional challenges, so I thought, well, maybe I can write the pain out of my body.

Not very scientific, I know, but I was desperate.

Very slowly and very painfully I started writing a few sentences at a time about what it feels like to live with pain. About how pain moves in and takes over your life. About how I hated the pain in my body. About all the things I was forced to give up and the time lost to pain. I wrote scathing letters to pain, demanding to know what it thought it was doing, taking up unpaid lodgings in my body.

After several months of this I noticed something. I noticed that I felt better. I couldn’t say I’d cured myself, or that pain had left my body, not at all, but I felt better. Despite the pain. Huh.

Seeing Myself in the Pages

So I kept going. Over a couple of years of writing sentence by painful sentence with large rests between, sometimes lasting several months, I filled a couple of notebooks with spider scrawl. Then I stopped, read them, and saw what I’d been through.

First, I saw the terrible pain, the loss, the grief, and the hopelessness. I saw how TOS and chronic pain had robbed me of precious activities with my son, my work-related aspirations, and my avocations. And that was very, very difficult to acknowledge and very sad, but it was also important to see the whole story. To witness myself, in a sense.

But, along with the many challenges, I also saw phenomenal strength, and a growing wisdom. I saw an absolute love for myself and for my son and for life, and the incredible tenacity of spirit that kept me going day after day. And that was equally important to see and acknowledge and own.

What Pain Couldn't Take

So I wrote about my path with pain and through pain and saw myself in the writing. Not because I had become pain or because pain had overwhelmed who I was, but because, despite everything, I was still there. Whole and complete.

The me of me was still intact. I had been through the fire, and what was left was pure me.

That was the beginning of healing - to write honestly and deeply about my experiences and to recognize that pain couldn't rob me of everything. It could rob me of a lot, but it couldn't rob me of myself.

Maybe that seems like a small jewel to dig out of the muck, but I really don’t think so. I know who I am. I know what I can go through. I know how strong I am and how much I can love. I know compassion and caring and softness and resilience.

And that’s a lot.

Thank you for reading! Your comments are always appreciated.
If you enjoyed this post, please take a moment to like it and share it with others. Thanks!

Sarah Anne Shockley is the author of The Pain Companion series of books on holistic pain management and pain relief. Visit her at www.thepaincompanion.com for resources for people in chronic pain and more information on her work.

It's that time of year. We all do it. We make our long lists of New Year's resolutions.

Or we decide we're done with lists, and we're just going to choose the one thing we're really going to do this year.

And then, about three days later, we realize we've already forgotten what was on the list. Or that doing that one thing is going to be harder than we thought.

You're Not Lazy

It's not that we can never keep our promises to ourselves, or that we're undisciplined, or lazy, or bad people. It's because we usually choose things we haven't been able to do yet to go on that list of New Year's resolutions. And the reason we haven't been able to do them yet is because they're hard.

So, we start fresh on the 1st of January (or the 2nd or the 3rd), using the beginning of the calendar year to start a metaphoric new beginning in life.

And sometimes it works. Sometimes we get some good momentum going and we really do keep those resolutions.

But a lot of the time we don't. Not because we're awful people, but because if our resolutions were easy to keep, we would have done them already.

Last year.

But I Don't Want To Be In Pain This Year

And here we are in a new year, and we're still dealing with pain. It would be great to make a resolution for this year to be pain free, wouldn't it? Or would it?

Well, the trouble with resolutions is that sometimes they make us act like a dictator in our own lives. I will do things this way now. Not because they are arising naturally out of who I have become, but because I say I will.

We want to step from December 31st to January 1st and be instantly different. But that's not always giving ourselves the time we need to change on the inside - to make necessary emotional and mental shifts - to even really choose those things on a deep level.

So pain is the same way. It just won't be ordered around.

It's not that you aren't strong enough. It's that pain has it's own longevity, and its own purpose. We certainly may not understand what that is, but it seems to be so. Painwill take the time it takes.

On the other hand, when we allow pain all the time it needs, when we stop resisting its presence, it seems to begin to complete its mission faster. Once we stop clenching down on it, trying to stop it, and trying to battle with it, it doesn't have to battle with us quite so much.

Let Go of Resolutions

So, this year, a wonderful resolution would be to let go of resolutions and just be with what's in life right now, even if it includes pain.

We might choose to resolve to stop fighting the big battle. This isn't the same as giving up or giving in or giving over in the sense of crawling into our pain and disappearing inside it. Not at all. Giving up the battle with pain doesn't mean surrender, it means partnering with pain and working with it as a messenger and a natural part of our healing path.

Why would we want to do that?

Because as long as we battle with pain, the battle will continue.

Who will stop fighting first? You, or pain?

Make Peace with Pain

Now maybe what I just wrote made you feel uncomfortable, or angry with me. Maybe you think I don't understand how hard it is. But, believe me, I do. I do understand. It's relentlessly hard to live in pain.

But it's harder to keep fighting it.

So, as a scientific experiment, right now, take a moment to release your breath (are you holding it?). Let it flow naturally, and just allow the pain in your body to be what it is, as it is, just for a moment.

Just for this moment, relax around the pain in your body. Allow pain to have the space it already occupies anyway.

It may be scary to you, and you may feel very vulnerable, but just for this moment, right now, don't fight with pain. It's still going to feel painful, but you're not fighting against it.

Notice You. And notice the pain. Coexisting. Making peace.

Being at peace with pain isn't a place of weakness or giving up. Being at peace with pain can correspond with being at greater peace with ourselves.

Pain is already here. And, so far, fighting it hasn't made it go away. So, consider making this year's resolution a non-resolution. A resolution of letting go - releasing the battle with pain, starting with little intervals at a time - and see what happens.

As always, I wish you well,

Sarah

If you enjoyed this post, please take a moment to share it with others. Thanks!

Sarah Shockley is the author of The Pain Companion series of books on holistic pain management and pain relief. Visit her at www.thepaincompanion.com for resources for people in chronic pain and more information on her work.

Being Softer With Myself And With Others

When you’re fine and things are moving along in a fairly normal fashion, it’s sometimes hard to have patience with either yourself or others. We expect so much of ourselves all the time, and we place these impossible standards on others also, including our mates, siblings, and children.

Being in pain, I had to learn to take care of myself differently, to have greater gentleness toward myself and what I was going through. I also began to understand what others go through when they are dealing with illness, injury, loss, or other hardships.

Everyone, including me, is always and only doing the very best we all can with what’s in front of us and what’s inside of us. We can never know what someone else is carrying, either in terms of physical pain or in terms of emotional stress.

Having to live with less of everything – less strength, less energy, less brainpower – taught me to be kinder to myself and kinder to others. Living with pain taught me how to give myself and others more of a break.

Appreciating The Little Things

I remember sitting in my house when my injury was most acute, my body burning and aching, and noticing a ball of dust in the corner of the room. I realized that, in the past, I would have just gotten up and cleaned it. Right then, that action was more than my body could handle.

I glanced around the room and saw all the things I wasn’t cleaning or couldn’t keep up with. It was more than a little distressing to not be able to do the simplest things, and I realized how much we take the smallest activities for granted.

We assume we will always be able to do what we’re doing now physically, and never dream that we might be hugely compromised for a while or for a very long time.

I began to appreciate how much I had taken for granted in the past. Brushing my teeth, picking up a plate of food, or driving more than 10 minutes used to seem like nothing, but were now painful, slow and laborious.

I realized how amazing life really is and how much I looked forward to regaining any capacity for doing these things with less pain and more mobility. I remembered how I may have complained in the past about having to do something minor that now seemed like a privilege to do. It was very humbling.

Being in pain, while I would prefer not to have had to go through it, nor would I wish it on anyone, nevertheless taught me a great deal about slowing down, being more present with life as it is right now, letting go of trying to completely control how my healing would unfold, how to say no when I really needed to, how to find my voice to speak up for myself and ask for help when it was appropriate, how to be softer and more forgiving toward myself and others, and how to be appreciative of the smallest things in life which sometimes are the most precious.

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This is the third post of a three part series. This post is excerpted from the author's book, The Pain Companion: Practical Tools for Living With and Moving Beyond Chronic Pain, Any Road Press, January 2016. Image: Flowers, Elena Churnosova, 2009 (Wikimedia Commons).

Sarah Shockley is the author of The Pain Companion series of books on holistic pain management and pain relief. Visit her at www.thepaincompanion.com for resources for people in chronic pain and more information on her work.

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Disclaimer

Nothing on this website constitutes medical advice and is not intended to be a substitute for the medical advice of physicians. The reader should consult a physician in matters relating to his or her health and particularly with respect to any symptoms that may require diagnosis or medical attention.